The Professor Ep 01

It's 8:15 and his stare finds me across the room. He lectures on about the metamorphosis about butterflies,but I can't help but think his mind is elsewhere.

A professor shouldn't watch a student the way his eyes watch me.

No one else seems to notice, and why would they? This class is a joke--a right off to most for their required electives and "The Beauty of Nature 301" is more or else known as an easy 'A' for science majors.

Basic botany, some medicinal herbal studies, and a overview of pollinators and common insects.

But I didn't take the course for an easy 'A,' I took it for him. Professor Voss is secretly gorgeous and no one else knows it. Hiding behind those ill-fitted field clothes, chunky glasses, and dorky sweater vests, is a god.

I look up from my notes. Voss has gone silent. The flipping of textbooks fills the air in the absence of his voice.

Our eyes meet. He sits at his desk, hunched over student essays. For a split second those eyes darken like his angry, but I think I catch a hint of a crooked smile. Then, gone again, in an instant.

The timer dings. Class has ended.

The scuffling of chairs and notebooks, laptops closing, and feet heading to the door create a symphony ending our hour together once more. For weeks, I've hated this moment.

I joined this class for him. His beauty, his genius. And yet, I'd barely exchanged more than 100 words with him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Months prior...

Winter term was quickly coming to an end, with our break fast approaching, but tonight was special. Amidst the chaos of studying for upcoming exams, the world pauses for a single night to celebrate my 21st with friends.

Entering the pub, I saw him. Sat around a circle of notable professors from my major's department--many of which I'd had--was a commanding figure. Commanding, yet unfamiliar. Jane, my roommate and also a science major but my senior by a year, didn't recognize him and she'd taken nearly every professor in our department.

So I thought, foolishly--must not be a teacher. Perhaps a friend of theirs.

Hours passed and slowly his companions left. By which point, he and I had passed glances a good number of times. Once the last of Jane's and I's friends had gone and she'd disappeared off to the bathroom, the man approached.

"Hi," he said, taking an open seat beside me.

"Hi to you," I said, trying not to panic.

His dark hair, tan skin, deep navy eyes, and sharp jaw line made him appear dangerous in the good kind of way. But I was risk averse. Still, it's hard not to be drawn in by someone who looks like him.

His long-sleeve shirt hugged his muscles and wide shoulders like a glove and his dark wash jeans may have concealed what potentially hid there, but could not hide the length of his legs. Tall, hauntingly handsome--had I met him alone somewhere like a night walk in the city or on a run in the park in the evening, I might have been scared in a different way. Here tough--with the glow of the dimly lit bar, and the bass drum matching the thundering of my heart--he was alluring. Alluring in the worst way--in a way I could never have.

"This is a local hot spot, most everyone here is a regular, but you're new," He said and signaled the bartender. Without word, the bartender brought over a Meyers Tully beer.

Clearly he's a regular, the bartender knows his order, I thought and tried to give a witty response in turn, "Maybe I just go to better places."

One side of his mouth quirked and he looked away briefly to take a sip before those midnight eyes turned back on me. Heat flamed my skin.

"Well they must not be that great if--"

"Hey, I'm--" Jane joined my side, back from the bathroom and both the man and her fell quite. While she took a moment to take him in more closely--confused but pensive, like she was working something out--he was the opposite. Whatever connection they had, the dots formed near instantly when he took her in and something along the lines of shock and disappointment grew across his face before he briefly looked to me and then again to her.

He cleared his throat and tipped his head in greeting to her, "Miss Avern, how's the senior thesis treating you?"

A second passed her then it clicked for her too. Eyes popping up in joy, then surprise, she turned to me and to him and a look of 'oh girl, no' hit her before looking to him.

She replied, "Professor Voss, it's going good thanks for asking. Still teaching "The Beauty of Nature" along with your other courses?"

"Every spring term," he added and then tight-lipped he nodded to us both and parted ways with, "Enjoy your night ladies."

When gone, Jane and I walked back to our apartment, arm-in-arm, as she profusely apologized for not recognizing him in his "normal ware" while also lovingly mocking me for clearly flirting with staff.

"But goddddd, I did not know Professor Voss was that HOT! Like, damn. He looks nothing like that in class. He hides himself in these god-awful clothes that make him look like a dorky field explorer, has hideous giant glasses, and his hair is usually pretty messy." She waves her face, "but if he looked like he did tonight in class," an intoxicated giggle escaped her, "take that class, Emma. Take that class and give me all the juicy dirty little details."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied and she flashed me a knowing smile.

Despite her teasing and against better judgment, that night played in my head on repeat. I couldn't get the man out of my head so I researched in classes and his background. He was a genius. Graduated his B.A. in Science at 20, got his masters in both Biology and Botany by 23. Worked for the local ecology department to study soil quality, then traveled overseas to Africa for a few years to develop solar enhancements to help local communities gain accessible power sources.

Gorgeous. Charming. Intelligent. Dedicated. Good-hearted.

I knew I was screwed and what's more, when spring semester sign-ups opened up, I knew I would see him again.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Following the other students out, I dropped my text books like the klutz I am. Nearly everyone already ahead and practically out the door, I bent down, surprised to feel the presence of another lean beside--thinking I was the last to leave.

But it was him, professor Voss, handing over my Ecology book. "I studied this for one of my masters," he offered by way of casual conversation.

"I know, I saw that on your professor biography page on the curriculum coarse site."

His smile was flattered but more-or-less innocent. "You researched me? Most students just sign up for whatever teachers other have said are easy 'A's'."

I blushed, knowing I'd done just that with other classes from time-to-time and that his class was notable one of those amongst the science majors, but I wasn't about to argue that I'd sought out this class for him and not the 'A' others took it for.

Instead, I gave another--still true but not singular--reason. "I admired the work you did in Africa. I try to take classes with professors I think I can learn unique perspectives from opposed to ones that just go of the books."

His smile dropped for a moment, though not fully it was still enough to confuse me. The pensive look in his eyes put me on high alert. Something was happening inside that brain and I yearned for the answer.

A beat of silence and the air thickened, I wanted run, or to speak, or for him to speak, or someone to come in. Something--anything--to end the uncomfortable agony.

Finally he broke the silence and in an embarrassed shift of his shoulders, downcast and on-edge, he apologized, "About last term when I approached you in the pub. I shouldn't have done that. I had no idea you were a student. I haven't seen Miss Avern with you. I only noticed you in the crowd and I--" he blushed, "Sorry, I shouldn't say it like that. What I meant--"

"No," I blurted, without thinking. "I wanted you to."

Heat rushed to my face upon my response and his body language slowly shifted as the words registered. I swear desire entered that gaze, but once his eyes roamed down then back up my body in an indulgent way, I knew I was right.

The electric chemistry was there. It shouldn't be, but forbidden or not, something had sparked and I knew, I was in trouble.

End of Episode 1.

If you like this story, head over to my profile to check out my other works and to follow along in Emma and Voss's story in "Professor."